


Strength

by mallotovcocktail



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Drabble, Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallotovcocktail/pseuds/mallotovcocktail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel mourns the loss of his superhuman strength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

Castiel had noticed the disappearance of every angelic ability he had previously possessed by the second week of being a human being. It was not until Dean fell asleep in the bunker library that Cas realized just how weak humans are in comparison to angels. He knew he didn't have super strength any longer, but he had never gauged how strong the human lifting ability was. 

Dean was snoring and whimpering slightly from what Castiel assumed was nightmare when Cas attempted to lift Dean from the couch. The weight fell on Cas’ shoulders painfully as he angled his arms in the appropriate fashion. Dean didn't stir, didn't see Cas give in and roll Dean back fully onto the couch. Castiel sighed, realizing his mistake. He sat down by Dean’s head and buried his head in his hands. Was this humanity? The surprises of inability? 

Castiel was giving in to his thoughts, finally analyzing his new existence, and it hurt. He was close to tears as he thought about heaven for the first time in days, both simply because of the thoughts and because of the shame that he had not punished himself with the thoughts for days.

Dean shifted in his sleep and Cas looked down through his tears. The righteous man, a title Castiel knew suited no one else. He placed his hand on Dean’ s cheek, daring the touch he was afraid of in the waking hours.

Tears continued to fall but not as insistently. Cas stared at the wall across from him.

“Cas?” Dean had woken up and was looking up at him from his position on the couch. He looked confused with sleep. Castiel began to withdraw his hand, but Dean’s was holding it in place on his face, a fact Castiel had managed to miss.

“Yes, Dean?” “Don’t, um…” Dean cleared his throat. “Don’t cry. You’re home now, man.”

Castiel laughed through the tears, a genuine chuckle of understanding, because he was.


End file.
